The Dark Cataclysm
by PolishSoviet
Summary: As the world burns in a cataclysm like none other the emotions and inner conflicts of some lead to new beginnings and new understanding. While in others it leads to the death and destruction of all things. The Void, has returned to reclaim his prize.
1. Enter the Thoughts

Chapter 1; Enter the Thoughts

Azeroth had just nearly evaded the icy grasp of the Lich King, once again moving past destruction with all pieces. But yet another darkness waited for them, beneath them in the dark caverns of Azeroth. The mortal leaders of the Alliance and Horde tried to have a pseudo-peace between one another.

"It wont work..", said many. Doubts were cast in thousands since it has never been such a thing as a 'lasting peace' between the two factions, it would be as probable if the scourge and forsaken became good allies.

All the while inside the hard crust of Azeroth dwelled the Aspect of Death; Deathwing. His armor plates blackening himself more so, the Darkness of his soul and heart formed by a magma educed skin. A massive being, perhaps not even a being anymore, due to his transformation.

And yet, with a groan he swayed back and forth. "How am I to do this?" He asked himself, and ironically responded "You will bring about the cataclysm when you emerge and extinguish all life. You could also have the War between the alliance and the Horde come again, always easy targets in this wars."

The repeats of questions, answers, and retorts was by the same being; Deathwing. In his solitude he has found no one to comfort him other then his own sadistic mind. How to kill a said being the fastest , or the most brutally.

A slight solution to one of the problems he faces, but barely in any sense. It was only in this, did he find a 'sanctuary' from his own insanity created by the Old Gods.

But he soon stopped his self-conversation…a new thought entered his mind. One of delight, and yet a deep feeling was weighed down on him. What was this…? Not in centuries upon centuries did this feeling ever entrench him.

Shrugging this off as a natural side-effect of being consolidated to a space under the crust of Azeroth, centuries of solitude from any beings besides the Old God's lackeys, and never seeing the dragon who had cast him down.

"_Alexstraza…_" was the name that crossed his mind, remaining there as if someone had punched it into his mind until he could no longer reject this thought. What was he to 'exactly' do at this point? Kill her? Seduce her? Torture her?

Even in his own thoughts, he could not think of a way. "Killing the aspect of life is no mere feat!", he thought to himself, "It takes…it takes power! The power the True masters of this world have given me."

The thought of power made his scales turn and ache with a need for a blood-bath. He was all but unprepared for the moment at hand. But _that_ feeling was ruining the moment. What exactly was it?

It felt, to him, as if a large mass was holding him down. A massive wound to his well being, a large dent into his process of thinking. Scowling at this sensation of "unknown feeling", it occurred to him that he might have not grown attached to the idea of fully killing her.

In truth, at first he wanted her as a mate for his 'new' glorious empire of peace. But now, it seemed that wasn't possible in any sense, state of mind, or universe. But she was Alexstraza, the life binder, and he was Deathwing, the Destroyer of worlds. Complete opposites, complete foes.

How could he not grasp this idea? "Just break the neck at a 180 degree angle…or perhaps burn her with our molten breath! Maybe educing a suicidal syndrome after killing all of her offspring, that usually gets her in a fight or in a depressed state! We saw this, do you not remember?" His mind beckoned to him.

The body winched at thinking the moment the life-binder did see her children get slaughtered, experimented, and ultimately destroyed by all means. The confusion, the stress, and downward feeling seemed to have a 3-way battle inside his own consciousness.

"What's wrong? Didn't you like to see her in pain? In suffering?", a voice spoke within his own being. Was it him? Or maybe the old gods mocking him? Perhaps an imaginative voice he pictured inside his own mind to mock him, a furthering sign of insanity.

For the moment he turned his eyes downward towards the rough rock beneath him, clutching pieces within his claws. These pieces began to melt by just his touching of it…perhaps to fully mock him for what the aspect he 'was'.

The Earth aspect, Neltharion…the memories engulfed his mind before he cast out his old identity from his process of thoughts. "Why think of that meaningless past when you can strive to create a better future? Come now Deathwing…don't tell me you've gotten soft over the years.", once again the un-named voice spoke clearly within his mind. Echoing like a thousand screams of pain and death, its sound became a scorn in Death wing's ears.

"I should at least consider to where I came from" he retorted, but the voice did not respond. Death wing's silent cavern was all that had gave him a piece of sound. "Solitude isn't that blissful anymore it seems…" Deathwing spoke to himself. With a heavy sigh he looked upward, his sigh turning into a dark smile.

He had a goal now; To Destroy Azeroth. "Lets see how long that lasts…" replied the voice, which he for the time being irritatingly named his 'conscience' due to the ability for it to speak back and himself not being able to speak to others for the time being.

On top of the Wyrmrest Temple, sat the Red Dragon Queen; Alexstraza the life binder. Yet she was alone for the time being, her consort Krasus had gone to other duties in the mortal plane.

A deep sigh wrestled itself out of her, as she began to think of the past life she once possessed. The life of an aspect, with the other 4 as a family almost. Ysera; Aspect of Dreams, Nozdormu; the Aspect of time, Malygos; the Aspect of Magica, Herself as the aspect of life, and then Neltharion…the aspect of Earth. The one word that stood out in her mind was her former friend; Neltharion. Why did he choose such a path? To become a servant of the Old God's Chaos, when he had everything that could make him happy.

Turning and weaving of this thought alone brought much despair to the Queen; the loss of a dear old friend wasn't the only thing that was entwined within the tale. The Loss of Malygos, the death of millions in the countless wars after, the division of the Dragon flights and their own aspects! But, for her, it was impossible to blame all atrocities of Azeroth upon Deathwing.

Yet why? It was easy for Malygos, simple for Ysera, an equation for Nozdormu, but why not so simple to her? Re-thinking the same question many times over; "Why did he do it? Why can't I even attribute him to the destruction Azeroth is in?"

Her eyes turned downwards from the high temple, a seemingly bottomless pit that led to the earth warders former domain. The earth-warder himself was very fond of it before, if almost a symbol of peace in the old days. Creating mountains for their own beauty, to distract and persuade the mortals that war will not bring about anything but a realm of destruction.

An ironic tone, since now Neltharion was for nothing but destruction of all things, all life. His once handsome, built structure that would make any dragoness fall over heels was now nothing but a shell of armor, a shell built for War.

As quickly as that thought came to mind, it remained for only a few seconds in Alexstraza's mind before shifting it away to the back of her mind. Small amounts of heat built up on her, along the area of her nose and cheeks. "Am I…_blushing_ _over Neltharion?"_ She thought to herself.

It was true that she did see 'qualities' of him in the olden days but now he was just a monster. Wasn't he? The Life-binder could, surely, give up the compassion for him, right? Or maybe she couldn't for she loved all life. Even that of Neltharion's, but this contradicted her.

"Neltharion had killed my babies, killed my consorts, had me captured, gave me to the orcs, and brought destruction upon all the Dragon flights!" A part of her rebutted, trying to have her see that Neltharion was evil. And yet, another part of her replied; "Yes, yes but…could he be fully corrupted? He has not killed you yet. He could have killed you when you were captured, and been done with it. But, no he didn't. There is still some good in him…you just have to search for it!"

Another groan seeped out of her, this little question had turned her into thinking about philosophical questions about the redemption of Neltharion and how she thought of him as 'cute' in the old days. She soon let out a half-hearted chuckle, as if she was admitted to herself the concept of Neltharion was, more or less, a complicated subject to even classify.

"Good…evil…Too simplified choices for such a being like him…", she uttered under her breath. In truth, it would be too simplified in any manner to classify him as an absolute evil or an absolute good that is now corrupted. Sometimes his methods would be harsh even as Neltharion, the earth Warder.

But as Deathwing he obviously had some 'good' left in him, or some feeling for her. In her mind, she knew this was a falsification of her sympathy to try and get Deathwing seem 'good' in her eyes. Or was this her other side, the side that was against Deathwing for everything?

She didn't even know anymore truly, only that she would have to form the opinion on a later date. To form one now would be nearly impossible due to not only the stress to rebuild the Red and Blue dragon flights, with the fact Malygos had to be replaced, but the mortal world was still suffering from the fall of the Lich King. All of this seemed to just grow as if a larger cataclysm would come.

Warm liquid came to her eyes, burning with the intensity of the heat of lava. With a muffled cry, she spoke one last statement before turning to leave into the realm of sleep. And this was; "Neltharion…why…".

Thrall overlooked Orgrimmar, the fine capital city of the Horde. But while overlooking this magnificent city, he began to think about the evident future of the Horde. With the Fall of the Lich King it has, once again, proved the alliance and Horde can become allies against a darker evil. But, he was not getting younger and his ideals for peace are not appreciated by others of his kind. Hellscream is just one of those who did not follow his ideals of peace with the Alliance, rather he wanted an upfront conflict with the them.

"Though I don't know if Hellscream believes that this will end in a sure victory for the horde…" Thrall begins to think of that question, and judging from what he knows from Hellscream. If he knows it wont be an easy victory why does he attempt it? To clear his fathers name and create a title of glory for the children of his later heirs? Or perhaps he thinks it will be an easy victory, and will soon see when he tries his 'war' that it will end thousands of lives of alliance troops with Horde comrades.

His moment of thinking was disturbed when another Shaman of the Earth Council entered, Thrall turned to his ally and spoke; "Hello fellow Shaman, something to report?"

The Shaman's grave expression told most of the story to Thrall, yet the Shaman only said; "Fellow Shaman Thrall, the malestorm is turning with dark energies. We suspect it will grow in enough size to engulf all of Azeroth. The Council has decided to send you to the malestorm to halt its expansion with 4 others…"

At first Thrall was only at a mild downed thought, but as the Shaman spoke on it was obvious his expression was one that had experienced the end before it had happened. His eyes full of void, wrinkles proving to be more like veins pulsing due to the stress this would cause him in the later future.

The Shaman was as a bad shape as he, for the Tauren had seemed as if death made a blow at his whole tribe. Not only that but the once lush fur that had covered the Shaman before in the days of the war against the Source, it had now turned old, shedding, frail of life.

The shaman continued; "..I am sorry that you must go, but it is urgent…you must choose a replacement in 2 days. Goodbye Thrall…and I pray to the Earth spirits that your soul will have a safe journey."

Parting with the other shaman, Thralls mind simply plummeted into his worst fears. The only one the Orcs of Orgrimmar would accept as the new Horde War chief would be none other then Hellscream. "I guess I have no other choice…" he spoke within a deep sigh.

The following morning Thrall went to the training area, where new Orc soldiers were trained by their champion; Hellscream. "Greetings Hellscream, champion of the Horde." Thrall addressed to Hellscream, who looked his surprise, look with awe. "Greetings war chief! Is there something a miss? You look…depressed." Hellscream spoke out of concern, to which Thrall replied; "the Malestorm is…growing to size. I must go there with the other 4 powerful shamans of Azeroth, to halt its growth. As I am away to stop this calamity from harming us, I place you as my replacement as war chief…" Thrall said, in trying to sound happy that he was giving the position to Hellscream.

In an odd event, Hellscream accepted it a bit hesitantly. Perhaps he also knew that it was a hard job, and Hellscream wasn't the best 'fit' for the job. But none the less he accepted, and with that Thrall went on his way to visit the Malestorm. His arrival would be one of horror and anguish he suspected, but quick.

Lone in his study, Nozdormu sat with the expression of one who had all the guilt in the world. His thinking clashing with one of another, one which wanted him to do the unspeakable. "Why don't you reverse the spectrum of time? Stop Deathwing from going down his path, you will help the Dragon flight remain united… you will help all those who had died by reviving them. Making the world at peace!"

He knew those were lies, but the temptation itself was very great. To have the power to change the events that would haunted the Dragon Flights till their end, to have Deathwing not go down a path of the Old Gods; of madness.

But if he chose this path, the consequences might even be greater. Who knows what else the Old Gods might take in, what the future would be like, and what other dark demon take Deathwing's place. His grief, his torment, his theorizing would all lead him to the same conclusion; either he had to have time and life take its course _or_ change the series of events that caused Deathwing to fall down into his current state.

Yet…a voice crept into his thoughts, his conscience. Telling him; "You know you want to do it…You will benefit the world by having Neltharion back into your united Dragon Flight, second in command to Alexstraza. You will create new life! New prosperity…Come now, will you reject such an offer? I can grant you many things, many dreams and hopes. All you need to do is either change the course of history _or_ Activate the Black Temple. Then…I will help your cause."

This voice, sounded one of metallic being. It was ancient but all knowing…sounding as young as the Aspects were during the War of the Ancients. It wasn't the Old Gods…it couldn't be. Their whispers brought one of cautions, one of fears. This one…brought one of hopes, dreams, ideals, prosperity. It nearly sounded too good to be true, and perhaps it was. There are far ancient, more powerful beings then the Old Gods. Some legends even tell of a race of gods, that in their greed consumed one another un till only 4 were left. Could this be one of them?

Nozdormu did not know, but decided he would hold off on the voices offer for now. He had to study the recent events of the world, the destruction of mountains, villages being rocked by earthquakes. What were rare occurrences became more common day by day. Could this be Neltharion? He was the former master of Earth, the earth warder. But he was dead, defeated. He couldn't possibly be alive…could he?

"_Anything _can happen Nozdormu, Dragon Aspect of Time. You can't underestimate these occurrences unless you, yourself, want to be consumed by the movement of time." The Voice responded in a mocking manner, as if it knew what was going to exactly happen. "And you try to tell me of what will happen?", Nozdormu replied back in an irritated voice.

The Voice only laughed in a metallic menacing tone; "No, I only tease you with the knowledge of what will happen. You living beings struggle ever so fondly to try and figure out what will happen…un till your own doom is brought upon you. Quite amusing, that even some of your own section find it hard to believe Deathwing is the problem for everything. Perhaps your dogmatic teachings of right and wrong fail in implementing a new thinking to the generations, eh Nozdormu? You will only prevent the inevitable if you figure it out in time. Un till then…my offer still stands." The voice, just as it had come into fruition, disappeared into nothingness.

The voice obviously knew of something that was happening, and was mocking Nozdormu with the thought that this could be not Deathwing's doing or that the Dragon flights 'union' is finally falling apart into rivals. This voice must have enjoyed all the fighting living beings are having, seeing that it is amused by the dragon flights struggling to figure out what is happen to them and to the world. Is this just a darker sigh or a mocking of logic? Whatever the case…a dark event will occur through out the lands. What its origin is, no one knows yet. "But you will…soon.", said the voice as a last whisper of knowledge to Nozdormu.


	2. The Shattering of Minds

Finally time for an update! Hopefully I'll be done by chapter 3 before the actual Cataclysm game comes out XD

But anyways I hope you enjoy this chapter and review~

**Disclaimer; Warhammer and WoW belong to their gods and masters.**

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****Chapter 2; The Shattering of Minds**

"Come now Deathwing…don't you think its time you revealed yourself towards the World? Showing all the Dragon flights how much stronger you've gotten. Perhaps…".

The Voice echoed within in his mind but his heart nearly fluttered at the Voice's last comment.

"…Perhaps it shall _even catch Alexstraza's _attention, her own time to be wasted to either try and stop you or talk to you. You'd get that…You will get more even."

It said in a crude fashion, Deathwing imagined that if this being had a face the Voice would be smirking at him.

"You don't know what would please me…" Deathwing uttered under his breath, still bringing not only the rising heat of his anger but the magma that was apart of his body. Yet Deathwing concealed a small blush out of the thought that Alexstraza would notice him.

Obviously he repressed those feelings quickly, before hearing the Voice's laughter. Manic, Metallic, and Calculatingly it said; "You might believe that, but I can see into your heart. Your dreams, hopes, desires, wants, needs, and of course your very essence. The "soul" as you would call it…", though the concentration of Deathwing on the voice was cut off at that moment.

He began to think of the real issues within him; "Why do I harbor these…things? These_ pathetic _emotions! I am _Deathwing, I am Death_; the _Destroyer of Worlds_! How can this thing ever happen to such a creature as I? Such a…such a…". He couldn't finish it, he seemed to not like it yet he spoke it. Was this his 'heart' telling him of what was good? What was evil? Or merely his own distaste in old repeated lines on a confusing subject.

His attention wasn't stirred from the question, he remembers the olden days of when he and Alexstraza were allies as Aspects. But unlike before his mind went into bloom with this idea; vividly remembering a moment of them together.

As his mind took into the events he almost felt he was there…the grass was a comfortable seat, resting on it with pleasure as its small stems stroked back and forth between his scales. The night was one of blessing, it was filled with the stars to its ultimatum as each twinkled to brighten the sky with its alluring glory.

And then, out of the corner of his eye, came Alexstraza. The shimmering dim lights from the heavens themselves blessing her with a glory of beauty in shinning scales. The red color only adding to this supposed 'glory' he had seen many years ago as Nethlarion, who was very…happy to see her. In this spectrum, as he remembers, he was quite intrigued by this coming of Alexstraza.

At times he even couldn't stop gazing at the glory, the scales, the perfect structure…But then these thoughts were moved from his mind as he spoke to her; in a tone of pleasure and fear. The pleasantries were well in his mind, her beauty, her aspiring glory, her overall feel on the other Aspects became this pleasantry as they spoke. "But what was the fear"?, he began to compact this question into his mind.

But he came upon a simple answer, to him now as Deathwing, that he was afraid of her being and power. Yet…his heart, his 'feelings', his brain said no. The other opinion of this 'fear' was that he was afraid that she stop being his friend if she found out that he, Nethlarion, was intrigued by her every being.

With a sigh, his flashback continued to beckon him; remembering as Alexstraza laid down beside him in the cool grass. Her warmth siding over to him through their scales, he remembered something they had spoken about long ago;

"Nethlarion?", she queried him with some concern.

He quickly responded to her in haste, seeing she had some look about her; "Yes Alex? Is there something that troubles you?", his own concerned face took him by just asking the question.

"Well…it's pretty much not only the responsibility of being an Aspect but the Burning legion…", it had seemed just as she said 'burning legion' his own mood went down into a depth of an abyss. The one force he couldn't mind destroying, and yet never did mention it to Alexstraza. Its force guided by Chaos, destruction, the majority of life decimated under it.

Being the Aspect of life as she is, it would be obviously to feel depressed, at least, by the mere mention of its name. But she continued; "They might come back someday…", her own expression seemed to even mark his as 'happy'. Her eyes, once filled with life and hope, now seemed dulled with darkness and sorrow. The Burning legion was the sole source of this…right?

But Nethlarion finally remarked; "We'll stop them…But, are you sure nothing else troubles you besides the responsibility of an Aspect?" To his surprise, she looked at him almost as if she was looking into his soul. She finally spoke, as if it seemed an hour of her staring at him, saying; "The…conflict of inner emotions and of ones mind. I'm more recently having this…"

Nethlarion looked a bit confused at this statement, replying; "Why would you have an inner conflict of emotions? You are far more knowledgeable on emotions and feelings than I. Seeing that you are the Aspect of life…Queen of all dragons, etc, etc…", Though it did have a small smile from Alexstraza her mind still had the depressed looked and aura about it.

"Because the conflict of whose just a friend, whose just a consort, and then…there's who can actually love me. You know?", she asked him innocently. In truth, he fully knew what she was saying. He had felt it to, the absence of love, and only a void of deep longing was inside him. But his longing would be far insignificant compared to Alexstraza's, being she the Aspect of life, of love.

"I could understand the hardships of that…", Nethlarion spoke with a sigh heavy upon his breath. He turned to face her, and saw that her own eyes of bright green met those of his brown. It was almost as if a stare down had occurred, but it was one of interesting. One trying to see how the other was thinking, viewing the, and how the other should be viewed.

An eternity passed, as it felt to Nethlarion, before he finally uttered his words under a constraint. Trying to remain focus on Alexstraza, and yet speak his mind so thoroughly that she does not misinterpret him. "As in…I can understand the hardships one would face as seeing a void in their heart, their soul…crying out for love, compassion, and all other emotions that seem to make us like the mortals.

And this is perhaps why the titans chose us, we…seem to have a understanding with that of the mortal races. You especially Life-binder, due to your communications with them. To my understanding, personally, I view that you'll find your mate someday. Be he a consort…a fellow dragon kin…", but by this momentum Nethlarion had trouble pronouncing his last quote, a hint onto what feelings he had for her.

To him, as he remembered it, it felt as if there was a choking inside his esophagus, forcing him to not utter his last statement. But he did, yet in a small whisper. "…Or maybe another Aspect…", He still did not know if she heard his plea. Heard his cries for love, and compassion.

Though why should he care? He didn't need her, or the warmth she had. As the final moments of the flash back went before him he was fond of one particular moment.

It was when Alexstraza was leaving but not before she gave him an embrace before going to her duties. Its feeling was…enrapturing, interesting, warm, and had a place in him.

Though he shunned at the idea, claiming that it was nothing but a hug and he shouldn't even care. It was in the past! Alexstraza obviously hates him now, wants to see him die. He shouldn't have a fondness over such trivial matters. Yet…a small region of his mind loved the embrace. Before returning to the attention of the Voice, he slightly imagined the warmth of it.

In truth, he let a small smile creep in on his jaw of metal. Though this was interrupted by the metallic voice; "Are you still on those matters _Dark one?" _Did it know about what he was thinking? That he ignored it? He heard a sigh, but it was one of shame and disgust rather then sorrow. "You need to be reshaped, you still hold your pathetic ideals.", it scowled.

Though Deathwing replied, in a roar, that; "What concerns me, is that I will achieve my revenge over the Dragon flights and finally crush them for the vermin they are! They betrayed me! Even…even…", he stopped at that sentence. He couldn't really accept still that Alexstraza betrayed him, that she would be capable of doing this.

"Yes, even that _whore Alexstraza _with her foolish idealism of love and life.", replied the Voice. Contrary to what it expected Deathwing replied vigorously at it; "You will **_NEVER _**speak of Alexstraza as such in front of me while you reside within my thoughts! Is this understood you whelp!"

Though the Voice merely mockingly laughed at him, saying; "You forget who controls whom. I might not be an old god, by I am far stronger then they. Be careful of who you dare to call a whelp…I am helping you become stronger you pathetic as swipe."

Their argument halted, as now Deathwing obediently listened to the Voice. Yet, in his mind he hated that he was listening to the same person who called Alexstraza a 'whore'. Not even he would call her that, even if she did betray him. Perhaps, he realized, he cared too much of their old friendship to let that insult slide.

* * *

Alexstraza let out a small sigh, trying to not show her overall downed mood from the last thoughts she had to herself. It was the meeting of the Dragon flights, to show a mood of a depressed spiral would strike the Union of the Dragon flights a mortal, if not fatal, blow to its own morality and self-esteem.

But she lifted her head up from its 90 degree angle of facing downward, paying attention to the Dragon Flight's speeches. Mostly, in these types of meetings, each Dragon Flight would identify problems that it may have and propose solutions that would end this problems. Yet many of the proposals would offend one Dragon flight or the other.

At times, the Black Dragon flight would oppose all issues of the Red Dragon flight and vice versa. Alexstraza assumed this internal violence was due to the two flights having a damaged history, and with that single thought there was a particularly warmth near her eyes.

Her vision became somewhat distorted and blurry, and then she noticed: she was crying. Why? It wasn't a particular need to cry, it was just the Blue Dragon Flight's proposal for a new Aspect to guide it. Why was she crying? Was it because of the hostilities between her own flight and the black Dragon flight? "Yes…that's it…", she told herself this over and over again.

But she couldn't accept it, it wasn't particularly possible she'd cry over this. Yes, it was depressing but it has happened for over 20 thousand years. Though a small part of her mind, one she refused to listen to, stated one strange statement; "You're crying because such of the conflict between _his_ and your dragon flight resembles you. You know…that you miss him."

"Its _**NOTHING**_ like it!", she screamed into her own sub-conscious. Yet this voice, perhaps her own morality, argued otherwise. "No, its exactly like it. That's why you created this union partly, you wanted to make the image of Nethlarion still reside in your mind. To work with his dragon-flight as if he was here supporting it, to remain at ease. But after so many years of this…denial I'm sick of it. I'm sick that you try to ignore his presence, his past relationship with you. Don't you care? Don't you remember?"

But, in response, Alexstraza once again yelled. "I _**DO**_ care, I _**DO**_ remember. But perhaps if you didn't notice I don't want to be depressed over the issue of him, of how he turned out to be! Don't YOU understand that I don't want to live with this sadness, and I DON'T DENY WHAT HAPPENED! How can I when I try to bring the Dragon flights together!"

As anyone could see, tears were streaming from her eyes as if they were rivers of a long-held depression only kept in check by self-denial and ignoring the issue. But as she turned to the other members, they looked in awe at her. Then she noticed what she had done, she had yelled in public of her inner-conflict.

She slowly backed away, whimpering like a whelp separated from its mother. She retreated deeper into the temple which the union resided, until reaching her throne.

At that moment, she thrusted herself at one of the fine fabric pillows and began to release the tears upon in. After some hours of weeping, she heard someone approach. In a most likely contest it would be Krasus, her primary consort to come check up on her due to her recent transgressions in the meeting of the Dragon Flights.

"My lov-", she knew it was Krasus being 'caring' but the mood wasn't the best time for him to try and make a move on her. "What is it Krasus, can you not see I am in…pain…". Admitting this was a bit difficult for her, not even grown to the idea she was depressed over Nethlarion's betrayal after some thousands of years.

"Well, I wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help you.", he stated in a rather caring voice. He loved her, she knew this. But…with that she merely growled lowly, for it reminded her of Nethlarion. Of the past…version. How he would care for her, how he would wonder if she was alright.

It wasn't fair, not in her mind, that she was battling these feelings. These feelings that once united her and Nethlarion in friendship of all things! But, how could she fight back? It was her instinct to have compassion, to have feelings, etc…right? She couldn't even answer her own question, so facing Krasus with red eyes filled with the blue tears she ordered him out.

As an obedient dog, he left tail in between his legs, so to speak, and left her. Time seemed to stop, the ever flowing hour glass at the corner seemed to take an eternity to just pass a mere second. Maybe this was what the mortals called; "a watched pot never boils" due to the fact in which case if you concentrate on time it will seem as if it is slow. But she wasn't, she was just waiting for time to take its course.

Years seemed to pass to her, but she heard the roaring of the dragons. This meant it was a new hour, but since there was 10 roars this meant it was 10 cycles after the sun's highest point, midday. Was it only 10 hours that had passed? It seemed like 10 long years.

Was…her conscious true? That the only reason why she created this 'union', used loosely, of the dragon flights to relive a dream of Nethlarion's? To have more peace in a world of destruction and chaos to make…her happy.

Perhaps she was, since really before Malygos's genocidal campaign against all other magical creates it never occurred to her. In fact Nethlarion had barely came into her mind until the recent events. Was it these actions, those events that it was brought into her mind? Or was this merely a long educed sadness only blocked out by Krasus and self-denial?

She wanted the former to be true…yet the voice in her mind said;

"It's both…you've been denying it. How do I know this? Think of it; he was your best friend and he…just left. After the 'final defeat' you just tried to stop thinking about him to escape madness and depression. That and you had Krasus, a consort that truly loved you. But then you remembered his words…do you not? That you'd find love in another dragon kin…perhaps another creature. The final whispered part was that you might find it in Another…"

The Voice was cut off from telling her what the last part was, Alexstraza didn't want to hear it. To hear those words, would be the most painful things of all. In Another Aspect…but it was taboo! "It would anger the Titans, our creators and lords, and bring down damnation upon the new flight…" she thought to herself.

"But what is love without its own damnation?", mocked the voice. She wasn't in love with Deathwing, she had a close relationship, a term she herself used loosely if she was to say it, with Nethlarion but he was dead. No longer existent in the beast that was Deathwing the Destroyer.

A heavy sigh rolled out of her lungs and into the breath of life, the muscles of her body become tight and stressed due to the amount of her own power to suppress not only this obnoxious voice, but that of the thought that Nethlarion, all those years ago, suggested to her that she might find love with him.

It might have been possible in all actuality, she came to him for advice on certain issues and he was a strong supporter in the meetings of the aspects. "We were…perhaps even more then friends…", this thought was now spoken in her head as the voice dwindled in its spoken words.

Her eyes grew wary from this day of hardship and of depression, as her eye-lids began to close thus she remembered on how exactly close she and him were in days of old. In happier days.

As Alexstraza's mind began to unfold upon past memories of old days when the Dragon flights were united in peace reminded her of one particular part; when she came to Nethlarion for advice on a certain subject.

It was almost as if it was yesterday, she could feel the heat on that day as it went down her scales with a fiery fume toiling her body levels. As she continued to walk towards Nethlarion's domain, at that point the stayed in Grim Batol due to the meeting of the Dragon Flights locating near that particular location, she was concerned with thoughts he had spoken to her at an early rate.

Of love, and compassion. It was…a good feeling to speak with him about these feelings for some reason. Was it because he was a close friend? That it was natural to discuss these things with him? Perhaps…but her heart was going at a different tune in this melody of life. It sung that it was more then friendship, that they had a bond so great no force in the universe could break it.

As this thinking to herself continued she bumped into a rather solid doorway. Slightly yelping, she rubbed her head to try and ease herself of the pain. Turning her eyes upward she saw that it was the door of the Earth-Warder; Nethlarion, her friend.

A small smile grew from her lips, as she knocked on this solid doorway thrice. After some moments of patiently waiting it opened slowly, as if it was to great royalty almost. Yet she could see Nethlarion's figure, his jet black scales gleaming from the sun's solar light. It's twilight blinding her with its shine of light, with his dark pupils staring into her eyes.

"Welcome Life-Binder, what may I help you with?", he said with one of his sly smiles to which she couldn't help but release a small giggle.

"Well Earth-Warder, I wanted to ask you a question on the current situation with the Burning Legion's supposed invasion…", but as she spoke of this it was obvious, to her, that Nethlarion's facial expression showed a distain of the question. His face seemed as if he was trying to maintain a smile yet trying to show a portion of his anger.

But then he responded; "Well…I believe that we should destroy the Burning Legion through a means that will not only destroy them but end any invasions they may commit in the centuries to come."

"What do you have in mind Neth?", she asked as she moved closer towards him to gain a better view of him. His jet black scales were growing a bit faint in their own light yet his eyes became clear as ever to her. There was a faint darkness in them but the light from the nearby fire illuminated them with a glorious blaze of warmth.

He made yet another smile, this time making it a bit funny yet at a usual calm tone. He let out a peaceful sigh, showing his teeth partially which glistened with a sort of beauty Alexstraza would only admire.

"Well Alex, I propose we have Nozdormu use a inter-dimensional gateway to show us the Burning Legion's home world. As we see them, the creation of a certain object should take place. An object to which we shall use to destroy their forces once and for all. With that we may also force any gate-ways to be closed thanks to Nozdormu, Ysera and Malygos using their powers. But you're idea of uniting the Dragon flights and mortals as once is a fine idea as well, I actually prefer it more then my own."

After his explanation Alexstraza shared a smile with him, "Heh…you seem to always support me in my acts in the council. And I always come to you for advice. An emotion springs up that I'm…unfamiliar with to be honest."

To this Nethlarion cocked his head at her remark; "wh-what do you mean?" he queried with a small blush arising from his face. Alexstraza could see it was difficult for him to talk as clearly and as calmly as he did yet she did not mind this.

"A certain emotion usually comes through me, over-taking me at times when we speak. Even if it is just…every-day things it comes. Perhaps it is because you're a charming friend or seem to have a real care for me and my ideas."

"A-ah…well that's nice to know.", Nethlarion responded still as if he had trouble speaking but not so much. Then he came under a calm aroma again, and his heart-warming smile came to him.

She returned the smile, and as time went on they began to speak of other matters that drifted from her mind. Now this mere memory was fading from her heart, her mind, and her soul.

Her eyelids opened into the world of light and of life, showing to her what was now of the current era. Death, Destruction, and the constant need to rebuild from the aftermath.

"Nethlarion…", she whispered under her breath wanting a need to return to the old days. The old charismatic Nethlarion she so dearly missed to replace the maniacal being that Deathwing was.

And so she wept the rest of the day, but to her it seemed like a long eternity she had to endure. In reality, it mostly was a eternity she would have to endure until Deathwing was dead or Nethlarion had to return.

* * *

Thrall's journey on sea to the maelstrom was not the best adventure he ever had, especially with the swaying of this vessel back and forth due to the currents of this particular storm.

Though this was not the first news of Azeroth's misfortunes, in the eastern kingdoms there was massive earth-quake activity that even blocked transport routes with such rage it would be impossible to go around.

His lungs produced a heavy, burdened sigh as he wondered what the Orcish city of Orgrimmar, and the Horde itself, would go through under the helm of Hellscream.

Would there be war? Or would Hellscream finally approach the alliance with some measures of peace due to the world just rebuilding from the war on the Lich King?

To be honest, in his mind, the former was more likely to happen. Was he a fool to leave the Horde to him? To leave to stop the maelstrom from growing to an immersive size? Perhaps, but it had to be done.

Even if it would damn him, damn the Horde, and damn all he worked for to liberate the orcs.

Even now he remembered Gromm's adventures with him during the rise of the Lich King. Even in Gromm's corrupted state, he helped save any orcs from further damnation of the corrupting powers of the Burning Legion.

Yet just as he was thinking of these olden days of when the Burning legion came to invade Azeroth he was thrusted off of his bed and onto the wooden floor of the ship.

With a spiteful groan, he pushed himself upwards off of this situation and came to his feet. Moving forward and opening the his bedroom door to see what the captain of this ship had done to cause such a flop he had been hit in the forehead with a pot used for Orcish delectable's.

This force, along with the swaying of the ship, caused him to fall backwards and loose consciousness for a bit. In this time span he was witnesses a dream…or was it the past images? He did not know…

"Come Thrall…stand to witness what is.", said a voice. Thrall picked himself up off of what appeared to be solid earth now, yet to his…fear he saw a man. Or what appeared to be a man in dark armor, and the armor itself was frightening.

His chest place was marked with a large circle with 8 pointed arrows coming from its epicenter, at which had a skull of a creature. It looked…as if it came from another dimension. Looking upwards his shoulder's had a placement of 3 pointed spikes, with human heads as trophies that were attached to the spikes as one would to try and cause fear or warnings.

Upon his gauntlets lied the blood of those he most likely slew, with a sword in his left had which was freshly used in battle it appeared due to not only the massive amount of blood but the smell of it. It was used recently. Within his right hand lied a mace, with dagger like spikes sitting on all 4 corners of a seemingly cone like center coming from the handle. It, too, was freshly used due to the fact Thrall could see blood dripping from those very spikes.

And finally the helm, the object which put the most fear into Thrall. It looked as if it had several spikes coming from the left and right, 1 on each side. And a 3rd spike coming from the middle, and looking right into his face was one of darkness.

The two eye holes to see were curved as if it was a demon's head, eye's raging red as if they were just made of blood. He had no opening to speak but he could speak so clearly it was frightening.

"Ah…you've awoken..", he continued, "Let me welcome you to my new home."

To this point the shifted his sword to the right, pointing toward a city that was blazing in fire. The screams of death and carnage seemed to sooth the red eyes of this warrior of sorts, as he watched civilians at the main gates get slaughter by other warriors. The others having blood red armor, capes of what appeared to be animal skin and a helm with 2 spikes on each side, and a demon's maw for a mouth piece. It, too, had a eye piece that seemed similar to this warriors but their eyes were…different.

He even questioned how he could possibly see them at this distance, yet the warrior said; "You can see them at this distance for I am opening your eyes with blood. That, and with the coming of blood these…what I call Khornites seem to come out as if they were in day light and right next to you. Such in their nature in all respects. They have claimed a new home for their god and lord in his name."

With this the Warrior chuckled, his voice to Thrall being that of un-worldly and dark, and turned to Thrall.

"You believe this to be amusing? To be good! You are slaughtering innocents, burning a city of which has most likely done no harm to you! You are-"

"We are doing what we have done for millennia, we are liberating for the Warp.", the warrior interrupted.

Yet, then, he said in a scornful voice; "And you would do different? You and your pathetic races, you who has caused countless wars among others and not given a slight regard to life claim that we are the villains? Do you truly believe that the Titans give a damn of your planet? Of Azeroth? They have long left you for damnation, has they have years ago when millions were calling for an end to the 2nd and 3rd war. What happened? Nothing, only more death. Our gods will help us and aid us, while your pre-supposed false gods seem to hide behind their priests, statutes, and chapels as they are cried out to and are too much cowards to do anything. "

Thrall tried to refute this, yet his own mouth was strangely sown up. Yet he felt no pain, no misery.

"I bring a warning to you, Thrall of the Horde. Though you may think you will save Azeroth or prevent an event that would harm Azeroth, but you must realize you can not stop the inevitable. A Cataclysm will occur that none have witnessed, and a war will come that will tear the foundations of Azeroth apart. I bring this warning for I want to see how you will react and try to change the course of events, but then even your guardians are too much the fools to try and stop to think…Now you will go to bring word of this. But if you will not and try to go onto your journey they you have damned yourself and damned all of the Horde. Goodbye Thrall…I do hope that you will bring an interesting play for me to watch…"

The warrior lifted his sword in a striking position, and as the sword came down with a wrath of un-prescient power…everything turned to nothing. His eyes were glistened with pain as if he was being burned by a light of no other and then he realized…he was awake.

Was it a dream? A nightmare? Thrall could not tell but he placed this at the back of his mind. Thanking the first mate of the ship who helped him up, he finally came to the pop-deck of the ship.

With this he saw a storm of no other, and at the center was the maelstrom. Churning with the power of the gods, and shooting lighting from hell itself…was what the warrior in his 'vision' true? Was a cataclysm occurring of a power that would consume all of the land?

"Captain…head a course for the eye of the maelstrom. We are ending what will occur there before it has the change to rear its head at Azeroth…"

At this he faintly heard a voice, that seemed like the warriors, which spoke; "Idealism will only lead to your damnation…but only know that you will see the birth of a new era Thrall. I shall give you that much…"

* * *

"Wake Nozdormu…Wake guardian of time, so you may hear the voice of change, of knowledge.", the voice echoed in Nozdormu's mind as he was being beckoned by its temptation of knowledge. Yet this voice was different from before...lacking the metallic echoing from within his mind but all the more menacing at the same time.

"I will not be corrupted such as the filth Deathwing was! I will not fall from the grace as either him or Malygos! I, Nozdormu, guardian of time will remain pure!", yet the voice laughed at him. Mocking him with statements such as,

"What a rousing speech! Perhaps if Deathwing, or even Malygos, said that they would have not become what they are today! A confused pawn of the Old gods and a dead Aspect who lies at the ground of the Void. Face it Nozdormu…you're out of options if you even seek the salvation of your world if you even want it. Or do you wish to disappoint Alexstraza on her idealist, effortless quest to redeem Deathwing and his flight and live on happily ever after…The universe doesn't work like that. It never has, it never will."

A fierce, raging response came from Nozdormu; "At least she TRIES to bring about a change to what you call changeless! You mock her attempts as if she was nothing but a pawn in a grand scheme-"

But the voice cut him off; "Yes, yes she is a pawn in a grand scheme that they call life. Existence. She has lost her closest friend and has lost perhaps the only thing she even truly cared about in this world before his betrayal! This organization she made for all you petty little dragon-flights? A way to cope with it, for Krassus apparently can not solve this problem of depression and solitude. I even think she still can't grasp the fact on why he hasn't killed her yet, though if I know his master and their goals then neither does her former ally; Deathwing. Such a irony…both the heroine and the villain can not explain themselves or explain actions they committed.", with that he gave a rousing chuckle as if he just heard a joke.

"Go back to the abyss where you and your kin were spawned!", replied Nozdormu.

But the Voice gave his own smart insult back at him; "I created the Abyss, I am of all knowledge you could possible think of. Do you not realize that your days, this worlds days, are coming to an end? You may have seen a figment, a fraction of how events flow from one event to another yet you can not comprehend the power of time, knowledge, decisions and the absolute meaning of being a guardian. You truly believe you know when you will exactly die? When you will exactly fade away? Only a GOD knows his time, and you are not a god. You? You a merely a pathetic existent form who tries effortlessly to adhere his false codes of conduct while trying to have things in his own interest. Need I remind you that once came an utterance of; " Deathwing's time will come…and he will be apart of my collection"? Fool! You have no collection for if you do, then it is my collection you posses! Only beings of true power, truly absolute knowledge may obtain the fables, legends, and daemons of their world!"

Nozdormu, the guardian of time and space itself, was in utter shock at these statements. Was he speaking to one greater then the titans themselves? No…impossible, no being can ever surpass them! But this being, though it might be bluffing it all and he being a paranoid little whelp, could be as strong as them.

"Who are you?", questioned Nozdormu yet with this he signified his defeat to the Voice's whisperings.

A dark chuckle echoed within Nozdormu's mind, "I am who I am. Knowledge, power, magic, time, and intellect. I am all these things, and more…I can help you bring salvation to your kin, your loved ones, your former love ones and future ones. Yes, I have the power to see into the future such as yourself yet mine is more accurate. To where you can see cycled events in which said decision is made I see all events. The dark ones, the light ones, good endings, happy endings, etc. Your precious masters, I believe they want to be called the titans, are nothing more then using you to a mere means of their own game. They lost this world one and had a universe threatened by a grand civil war of destruction yet when they finally defeated the 'most hated enemies' they installed you to over watch the new world. Why? Why exactly create you and leave you to such a challenge and only give you a fraction of power? I shall tell you why; you are nothing more then a dog. A tool, a weapon to use in case the evil rises again. You do not even guard time…you are merely renting its sphere.", it said in a calm fashion.

As if it knew what to say on each level to gain the subordination of a new puppet if the old one had broken. Was this a mere thinking of coincidence?

Or just a darker future to be told? He, for the first time, didn't know.

"I'm waiting Nozdormu, for I can take my offer to anyone I choose. How you may ask? For I can grant them the exact knowledge on how to open rifts to bring my aids in, along with my supplies for salvation. I could've given this to the Horde, the Alliance, the Scourge, and all other petty factions within Azeroth. Though I seek some promise in you, as you may become a god after all. Greater than the Titans, superior than Malygos, wiser then Alexstraza, gifted more then Ysera and, finally, more powerful then the fallen Nethlarion."

Bewilderment hit Nozdormu's mind set as if it had no foundations, was this being truly that wise to know all that was, whom were whom and how to bring about this? Not in all his centuries of existence had such a being come to him possessing far more then he did, and yet he did.

But he did not know how, why, or when this being would approach. He never saw it, never predicted it. Was he right? Were his powers over time and space just nothing more than a small play toy for him to use and have hubris for false power?

By the events now, it seemed this voice…this being was right. He was nothing more than a pawn, like Deathwing. As always he was disgusted to be classified in with Deathwing now, so this classification of pawn ship immediately drove him to ask this being questions.

Such as 'how will you bring peace' or 'how do you know the rift will sustain long enough to bring about your plan'? With such clever, ease and a tad convenient the voice answered his questions.

The answers themselves were simple, "I will bring the knowledge of how life is to the populace and guide them in a new way…a way that will reward them in dear time" or "The rift will sustain itself for not only do I know this bounty of knowledge but several others, my followers, know of this practices as well. They will help the rift sustain itself long enough for the knowledge to spread across all of Azeroth and mark the world with my guidance."

Nozdormu's mind itself was a bit doubtful of these things, and yet there was practically no other options to bring about this 'peace' which all strive for but none receive.

His mind was almost poisoned by this thinking, as if he himself was entranced with the idea so much he was nothing more than a mere advocate.

But this advocate had the power none others have, a partial power of time and space within his world. And the followers of, what the voice called, Eeztch would use this power most benefit their goals.


	3. The Cataclysm

**Blarg, I really was just lazy. But Chapter 3 is finally up and Chapter 4 can begin. I'd like your feed back and Thank you all for the comments that have been left.**

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* * *

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It had been 5 days of traveling from Deathwing's former location in Deepholm to more of the center of it. When he first entered it, being thrown from Azeroth itself, he crashed near a temple…he did not know what it was but it was a large tower.

But as he approached, what the voice told him was, the center of the Deepholm, he noticed that the tower he first crashed nearby was composed entirely of Earth.

His former element, and he found it extremely ironic that he was trapped in his element.

But before he could go down another memory lane, to where he might or might not have pleasure in, he was interrupted by the voice. Its tone scratching at the corner of his mind, mostly due to his voice had no emotion.

Barely any anger, no irritation, and no 'joy'. What being could even have such a life!

"Deathwing…We are here. You may stop", responded the metallic Voice. As it commanded him he halted under the Deepholm, a realm where the darkest secrets of Azeroth yet remained.

His dark eyes composed of fire gazed upward towards the light above him, a small whirlpool in-between the two worlds. The surface world of Azeroth and this, Deepholm, the realm of the rock elemental lord; Therazane.

"Why are we here voice? Therazane would never agree to this event, it would 'ruin' her world!", Deathwing queried the voice due to not really understanding their presence here.

Though the Voice scolded him in his 'harsh' tone, which sounded as if whatever this being used to talk with was damaged. The static pierced Deathwing's ears, his very mind used as beating dummy for the voice.

"We are here for this is where you shall come back to the world of Azeroth and gather allies! Besides…you will be helping the world with this action."

But Deathwing's reply, as usual, was a mere scowling at this suggestion of benefiting the world with his entrance. He wanted to purge all that dared to threaten peace of his new world! Of course there would be some who would be helped from his return…but helping the world? It sounded too good to be absolutely true.

"Now go into the temple of Earth, you will rest until I tell you to what to do next. So you may wait Deathwing…" finally responded the Voice. It sounded impatient, as if it was trying to figure out what exact time to leave.

Deathwing couldn't help but try to smirk, yet doing so was difficult due to his own lower jaw composed of metal. But seeing the Voice getting impatient and trying to think things over, as if it made a critical mistake, was amusing to hear none the less.

This was the same being who called Alexstraza a whore and made him, Deathwing, an obedient lab-dog!

Yet he thought what was he more frustrated at? The naming of Alexstraza a whore or that he was reduced to nothing more than a obedient lackey who listens to all his master tells him to?

In truth he would prefer if his anger was focused on him being a lab dog for this Voice…this being of some nature. But it was not so since he felt an equal, if not more, pent up aggression at the voice for calling Alexstraza a whore.

Though he made a excuse for this anger; he always wanted Alexstraza to help his forces grow in size. Since she was the most fertile of all dragons!

It worked for some time, but this self-imposed lie only made his anger grow to himself. Why?

Was it because of the old times Alexstraza and himself shared? He had long blocked out the original thoughts but the memories were there as if they just happened yesterday.

Was it because of the specific word the voice said about her? Though Deathwing wondered why it called her a whore…Perhaps because she had many mates?

But why would that matter? She was the Aspect of life! Alexstraza, of course, would have many consort, many would seek her seeds of life to embrace.

Though what she has for 'consorts' were fools, idiots, and weaklings. Like Krassus…"She deserves more then that filth!", he thought.

"What am I saying?", he commented in his mind again at retaliation at his previous thoughts of Alexstraza's consorts and how she deserved more. He thought, "Yes its true she deserves better consorts but…why think of her in such a way? She betrayed me! She, like the rest of those damned aspects, believes I have done all wrong!".

Yet a corner of him didn't think the same way, since Alexstraza's title is "Aspect of life". Surely she can't think like they do. "I mean she hasn't damned us face to face…" but he then remarked, at his own thought, "Yet…She will in due time when I return to the surface."

A heavy sigh came from his heated breath, cursing himself under that same sigh. How could he be doing this at the eve of his return? He should be excited, preparing for the inevitable victory! But, he felt unsure of what to do when Alexstraza might come…what to say, what to do, what to even think escapes him!

"Damn it all…", he thought but then the familiar Voice interrupted his way of thinking.

"Deathwing, I have found a way to grant this benefit of your return to all of Azeroth for eternity…", it said in a calculative tone.

"Oh?", remarked Deathwing in a irritated tone, "And how would you have be do about this 'benefit' bullshit you seem to rave to me about?"

Its scolding tone once again scratched at Deathwing's mind as if it was a claw on granite. "Listen my whelp, you are to exit through flying the Earth Temple. You will destroy a certain object before you exit…looking like a green crystal with a language you can not comprehend. When you do this, then…there shall be a benefit, a release upon this world."

"And what is this benefit?", Deathwing asked. Since the voice was being vague, about a universal 'benefit' that would be released upon the world during his return.

"It shall…take away all the problems that life possesses. And then peace shall come…", it responded

Deathwing just nodded, but having a slight offence to its comment. What was the life-binder not doing her job right to its status quo? Was there a perfect world of life IT saw but not her? Or what about himself? He saw a perfect image for life on Azeroth and this is not taken into account for the voice?

But he would make the Voice regret the day he even decided to try and talk to the Destroyer of Worlds.

Magma busted out around him as he squeezed the earth itself with all his might. Its eminence gave an added fury to his already boiling mind at the thought that this Voice was trying to attempt to put its plan above his!

Deathwing gave a fierce war-roar inside the Temple of Earth, and the temple itself cracked to its very foundations as the former Aspect of Earth decided that his time within the Deepholm was over.

His wings burst open, making a large flap downwards as it propelled Deathwing and his magma of hell with him up the Temple.

All was burned, all were dying, all were suffering under the wings of Death. The magma itself seemed like a fiery explosion emanating from the mantle of Azeroth.

But it was the return of Deathwing, the Destroyer of Worlds! His eyes blazed with fury, his dark armor being glistened by the magma's light.

Higher and higher he climbed, as Destruction followed in his path like a shadow to one walking in clear daylight.

Thoughts spurred around his head like clock-work, "How can I know this will work" or "What will I do once I reach the surface" and "What will I do if the life-binder confronts me aggressively?". All these questions spun around him until he reached a moment of interest.

And then, after proceeding up the Temple Deathwing saw a room. For a glimpse of a second he saw it was…sacred in its own right. Strange writings on the walls, holy scripts surrounding what appeared to be nothing more then a emerald stone.

With the remembrance of what this voice told him, he flicked his tail toward this object. At the end of his tail was something of a sharp, sword like item.

This sword like part of Deathwing's tail struck the Emerald, casting it out of a window and down towards Deepholm.

A emotion of self-satisfaction and victory came to him, he took out what 'the voice' wanted to be broken but instead sent it lower into Deepholm to never be seen again.

"Farewell, you annoying son of a bitch", he said as a last response to the damned being.

Suddenly as the voice began to scold at him, it grew faint. As the large gem fell deeper and deeper into the abyss, its voice lessened and lessened with its might as it had before. A faint remark Deathwing did hear before the gem fell to where it could not be heard was;

"**Deaaaathhwiinnnggggg! You have DAMNED yourself to a hell in which you have never experienced before! A TARTARUS SHALL AWAIT YOU AS WE RETURN! BLEEAAAK, UN ENDING! And you shall know what it is to become apart of **_**The Void!"**_

As the it…faded from his mind he burst out of the Maelstrom, with the fire of hell at his back. Many of the mortal ships already there were destroyed as Deathwing returned.

The fire burned the ship and its crew while the shockwave of him coming through the maelstrom cast all remnants of them back to whence they came.

"Azeroth! Behold the Twilight of your Destruction! Now I, Deathwing, have come to finally purge this world of what has damned it all these years! THE CORRUPTION OF MORTALS!", Deathwing announced into the heavens.

His laugh was like a plague to the waters as it, almost, swayed away from Deathwing if it had a fear of him.

The Destroyer of Worlds, has returned at last. But a doubt remained in his mind…what will the life-binder do?

* * *

It was yet another cold season near Wymrest temple, as the council of Dragon-flights was held indoors. Alexstrasza, somewhat better then the previous meeting, was looking at the Black-Dragon Flight's representatives.

All of them, 2 hours ago when the Council was speaking on matters to help the mortals in their peace accords, were spooked. Some jumped, others flinched, and some ever held their hands toward their ears as if to block something out.

But now they are…happy. Excited, anxious at whatever they felt before. What could it be? Though as she looked more closely at their faces they seemed a bit…manic. Too happy to even be actually.

Their Aspect, Neltharion, was lost to all of them. His heirs, Oxyina and Nefarian, were also lost to the Dragon flight.

The Twilight forces seemed to be polar to them, repelling them when some tried to bring their brothers and sisters to the Wymrest Temple. They were actually in the worst position of the Dragon flights, save the blue Dragon flight since the recent loss of Malygos, so how could they even be happy?

"Unless…", she thought, "No. They might be excited that the world might be moving together or that these petty words are finally over!"

Yet she continued to think, trying to find a better reason to why these Black Dragon flight members were happy.

She released a soft sigh, and then it hit her. When she returned from the 2nd War to her Dragon-Flight they were as happy as they could be! Though their numbers dwindled, 3 of the 4 consorts to their Aspects dead, and the war continuing their Aspect was alive!

Indeed, she saw the almost identical expression upon their faces. Blissful to no end, but in reality their situation was more then bleak.

So…could he be back? How? After all these years, when she witnessed him finally fall down into the Earth! It couldn't be…that monster that took her best friend away from her couldn't be alive!

It poisoned her mind, like a single dark cloud infecting the clear sky. All she could think about was how could she even react to his return? Was Deathwing truly back, or has Neltharion been re-granted to the Dragon Flights?

She did not know but then her thoughts were also directed on the Bronze Dragon flight, as some looked around. In fact, where was Nozdormu? He said he would be able to make it, his son and consort are here!

Even the new Aspect for the Blue Dragon Flight, Kalecgos, was able to make this meeting!

"Great…Nozdormu is missing and Deathwing might have returned…what else will make this day worse?", she said in a sarcastic tone.

Yet she felt a general rumble underneath her, it felt like an earthquake but it…was more aggressive.

As she looked towards the others it there was worry in their eyes, and mixed feelings from the black Dragon flight.

But one lone, young and eager from the looks of it, Black Dragon flight member yelled at the top of his lungs; "OUR LORD HAS RETURNED! All hail the Aspect of-", before the whelp could finish it stopped.

It…was gasping for some reason until she could see what horror had fallen upon the whelp in her presence. His throat was ripped out from its foundations by a blue Dragon flight member.

Not a word came from the Life-Binder's mouth before a full war came upon the council. The Black Dragon Flight responded to the Blue's attack, the Bronze dragon flight cowering to see what the heir of Nozdormu and the consort of their aspect would do, the Green Dragon Flight went beside the Red dragon flight. And the Red Dragon flight, her own, did nothing but further increase the carnage.

Her own consort, Krassus, joined in the killing spree of the Black Dragon flights. His own hatred for their lord, Deathwing, had him forget that the Aspect of life was watching him.

In truth, she was angry at herself. She was doing…nothing! The only Aspect here other then here, Kalecgos, was in the carnage of killing the Black Dragon flight members who attacked his kin.

Were all succumbing to madness and hatred but her? Was she damned to this 'eternal purity' while others, even her own dragon-kin, went into hatred and brutality?

She soon let out a fierce roar, tears streaming from her eyes like an un-ending river of pain.

All stopped, and turned to the Life-Binder. Though as she looked at them, most of the Black Dragon flights were covered in the blood of their comrades and the blood of their attackers. While the Blue Dragon flight had a sense of guilt on their faces but they couldn't hide the pride away from killing pro-Deathwing members of the Black Dragon-Flight.

And then her own kin…the Red Dragon flight led by her own prime consort Krassus. Her sadness was soon turned into a fiery anger as she looked upon Krassus, who was cowering in fear of his Queen.

"Krassus…you DARE to take away life, and especially in front of your Aspect's presence? You disgrace my name Krassus…", she tried to lecture him but then Krassus spoke out.

"My Queen, you must forgive me but these _traitors _are loyal to Deathwing! The Wymrest Accord will not allow this to occur, we will not lose our Aspect again to that damned bastard!", but as he reacted and looked to his Aspect, anger was only seen.

"The Wymrest Accord? No, you and some Red Dragon Flight members will not allow that to occur! Are you so blinded by your anger that you forget that your Aspect is that of **life** itself? You killed fellow Dragon-kin in order to please your thirst for revenge against Deathwing! You…I will deal with you later. All of you leave!"

But as other dragon kin tried to dissuade her, she yelled; "**NOW**!" They then fled away to their own chambers, of their own flights.

Even Krassus, the loyal red dragon to his queen, left his queen to rot among the corpses of those who had fallen.

And now, she was alone. Amongst the dead, her eyes burned with the tears she shed for those who had fallen.

Shedding for all of Azeroth, who would now face a hell like no other she suspected.

"Neltharion…why did you leave…how could you leave such chaos...", she asked before succumbing to her own sadness, crying openly as her emotions were released.

* * *

It had been several days, five to be exact, when Thrall reached the Maelstrom. But the Horde and Alliance were already there, settling a tension between the two as each wanted to guard the maelstrom as the shamans were to do their work.

But until then no shamans were to try and maintain the maelstrom, which greatly displeased a great many of them.

And Thrall, one of the shamans for the Horde, was watching as Horde fleet were trying to have the area cleansed of Alliance fleet, who were at the opposite side of the maelstrom.

He always hated this fighting of his people and theirs, but the shamans on both sides should be able to work without this tension to block their way!

And then a large tremble came from within the world's surface itself, as if it was tearing itself apart.

"Captain, turn back towards the 5 knots away from this location before-", Thrall's next words were not able to be heard as a hellish explosion came from within the Maelstrom itself.

Setting a blaze 10, 20, or even 30 Horde ships in front of Thrall, whom was thrown back as this explosion's wave reached him.

Thrall, after glimpsing at what was his fleet, then heard the screams of sailors. Crying to their various gods for salvation, for aid, for anything they could offer.

No responses came from the heavens, the earths, the seas, or any element. The blaze only answered their wishes away from pain, by delivering them into the eternal slumber of death.

He then felt as if he was floating, but with a turn of his gaze to the left and right he was being carried towards the medical room of the ship. Or what Orcs could make of a medical room, with short time at hand and a being from hell proclaiming his return to Azeroth.

"My blood Brother…what attacked us?", Thrall asked before receiving a answer he wished he never got.

"It is Deathwing Thrall…he has returned!", this sole answer gave Thrall a fear that could not be compared to the fear of Hellscream ruining the Horde or War re-coming as many sacrificed for peace.

"This…this can not be so brother! He died in the old legends, cast down by the other Aspects!", Thrall pleaded for this occurrence he was told about to be a false tale.

And yet when a fellow Orc cast the window open, he saw it.

A being as black as midnight, with a fire within him that would cast the world in damnation.

His eyes, burning with rage, looked into Thrall's. It was as if he was looking into hell itself, an unending bastion of rage in the beasts eyes were visible even from this location.

And all around him, was the death of Alliance and Horde sailors who had done no wrong in Thrall's eyes.

Now Thrall's fear was a of whom shall live and whom shall die in this Cataclysm to come. But more importantly; shall we all live another day?

It seemed eminent for his death…and yet Deathwing soar above the clouds and headed towards Kalindor, continent for his people.

He cast out a cry of rage saying; "You bastard! I'll kill you if you DARE to destroy what I have created for my people! And for every one of my people you kill I shall slaughter a thousand of yours, I shall see your flight ended for this!".

And so sank he who was the former war chief of the Horde, to one who was to lose what he had strived for. A land, a home, for his people; for the Horde.

All lost, within the fires of hatred.

* * *

Nozdormu sighed, as he watched the flow of time from beginning to end and yet still has not seen this particular moment in time. Why? How could he not? He's watched the flow of events from before during the Titanic war to 10,000 years in the future.

But there is no sign of two mysterious voices coming to him after the Fall of the Lich King and offering him hope while casting him into doubt of the Titans.

Though he still advocated the peace Eeztch said would come but he doubted that this being was all what it said it was.

How could such a being exist without restraints of power or knowledge? It was unthinkable that a being could posses all knowledge of the past, present, and future yet ask him, what it called a particle of time, for help.

"_It might be an Old God trick!" _Nozdormu thought within his mind yet this seemed nothing at all to Old God trickery. And was the full extent of this being's powers?

Since it was coming to him for help on bringing this 'benefit' into the world of Azeroth. A feat that has never and should never been attempted.

The consequences that would come about it would be untold, yet…what did he want him to do? The being was never specific just stating that his acolytes would come to him soon, and then all would come into place.

He sighed at this confusion, as it seemed all he knew, all he would know as irrelevant to the matter at hand. The world must be benefited, must at some level prosper which he has tried. The Infinite Dragon Flight tried to stop Arthas from ever going to his dark path, trying to stop a renewal of the tension between the horde and the Alliance.

Though it would cost lives it had to be done. This is partly why he thought Alexstrasza would never understand this, for life must be taken to save lives. To her, that was impossible.

She couldn't take the sacrifices, the risks like he could! Alexstrasza was too soft hearted, she'll even stick to her old ways of trying to bring Deathwing back to their side.

But Nozdormu shook these thoughts off, he shouldn't think like this to begin with! Alexstrasza was a fellow Aspect, a bit weak hearted she may be when it comes to what is the greater good of the world.

She could barely stop Malygos's genocidal program of all magic users who were not bound to 'distinct laws' in what Malygos saw fit. Not to mention if Deathwing has returned already, she will not willingly stand against him in an aggressive manner.

Ysera would be trying to help her own lands from attack of Deathwing, but inevitably not help the lands around her and her dragon flight. So in the end; it was up to him.

But how? He didn't wish to help Eeztch just yet, but he didn't wish to do nothing. Doing nothing would once again allow him to see millions of lives die within an era that were just in their prime!

This constant universal law of war within living beings was a plague upon his conscience and his soul. For eons he was watched countless wars go to and fro but has never stopped one.

He has let billions die in the name of 'the order and stability of time', he has even let his brethren to whither and die such as the mortals. He failed the Titans when Neltharion had betrayed them to become Deathwing, and did nothing while Malygos's insanity consumed the vengeance in his soul.

But…maybe he could release something to combat Deathwing and the Old Gods? Something even more powerful then them! Though it might be impossible to find; due to anything being stronger then the Old Gods would be a threat to the Titans and thus exterminated.

Yet a whisper penetrated his mind, like a wind whistling through a creek in wood. It spoke to him; _"There is one that could defeat them…there is one that stood the test of time…"_

Though this time Nozdormu did not shake this thought from within the residue of his mind. If such a being did exist; it would surely destroy Deathwing with ease along with purging the Old Gods from within this world!

But what being could possibly be of that stature? Of that magnitude of power and strength? It'd be nearly impossible to find if the Titan's kept it alive, since then it would be threat to all of Azeroth as well as their own power.

The voice crept back in, having an ire echo which never ended. _"He…is in a realm between here and the Twisting Nether…He shall help you eliminate the troubles from your world…he was a servant of mine…and shall be one of yours as I command he…"_

Nozdormu, as always, was doubtful of this. Not only was this being asking for his help but it also offered its own help by giving him a powerful servant.

He had plenty of servants though, yet…not one was powerful enough to be such a threat to the Titans to imprison them. But this would obviously be a consequence; since they imprisoned this being.

The Titans would obviously be displeased at his release, and perhaps thwart everything that happened prior to this beings release. Revert time itself to that period of time and remove the anomaly that released him; Nozdormu.

So, it was to him a matter of choice. Which is a greater consequence? Continued destruction and death of Azeroth, or his elimination from time and space itself?

This would require mental thinking and what outcomes would come out of each. And then, only then, would he decide.

But he suspected that this Eeztch would appreciate this extra time to wait on, but it probably knows he would have to think on this.

Another sigh forced its way from his breath, signaling him that a rest would be required. And so he slept, to think upon a choice that would decide not only his fate but that of many.

He knew this, but he did not knew how many fates would he truly save or destroy with this act.

Chapter 3; The Cataclysm


	4. Reflections

**I am very sorry for the wait, but the Thrall part of this chapter was killing me...anyways I have no excuse other than that besides writers bloc. So yes, Warhamer 40k will finally be entering the picture and more detailed in chapter 5. Anyways R&R**

* * *

Chapter 4; Reflections

It had been an unbearable five weeks for Kalimdor residents after Deathwing's arrival, as he spearheaded his campaign against the mortal races.

Destruction was his bane, and his rage was his essence against all who stood against him.

Durotar, the Barrens, and all other realms were shifted ablaze with his relentless fury.

An example of this would be Orgrimmar; a city of hope for the Horde now turned into a ruined city rebuilding itself as the fires of 'change' annihilated it.

Orcs, Taurens, Undead, Blood Elves; it mattered not to him. Many turned to ash as he began his reign of destruction. The young, the old, and the weak were vaporized within instances of his fires.

Though as he now went to end the Eastern Kingdom's power in the region, once again did the scourge of doubt enter his mind.

"Am I even helping the world by making the mortal races weak or go extinct? Will Alexstrasza understand what I do is for, perhaps, the betterment of the world? Why should I not turn myself in?"

With a turn of his head, looking across the blue ocean before him, he tried to block out these…traitorous thoughts! How could his mission be folly? His ideals be fake?

Alexstrasza would understand, by his mind, and if not then…she would have to be considered an enemy to kill. Yet how was this so hard for him to think of killing her?

Indeed the thought to him now should be more of an mandatory objective then an option now due to the Red Dragon flight's hostility towards his own flight.

But it didn't feel like an objective to him; rather a choice. A choice a part of him wished not to make. Though what was his thinking? If it has to be done it has to be done!

Even if it is difficult, even if it does deal with permanently putting an end to their past friendship.

His growl intensified as this inner conflict of choice continued. How was this becoming of him? He, the Destroyer of Worlds! To be hesitant at the idea of killing his worst enemy, would be a disaster for the plans of the new age.

But to be not hesitant…would mean he has lost what he once wanted; her by his side under a new reign of peace. Two worthy mates guiding the world into an era of prosperity.

With a gasping sigh, he pressed on eastward; toward more countless destruction. But as he pressed on, continuing a goal driven by destiny, it was apparently that at each flap, at each inch that the air compelled him to move was giving him a feeling which he had not experienced in ten thousand years.

The feeling itself? Its essence drove all from his body, mind, and soul. He was nothing but a husk with it clawing at him without remorse or pity. Empathy, Apathy, Happiness, Sadness, Anger, none of this emotions or any others existed within him while this feeling drove him to war. To hell.

What was this feeling? It is simple; Nothingness. How did this feeling originate? And from where? Although he, himself, asked this question while staring at the endless blue ocean, he also knew its answers.

His mind became muddled on the day of his ascension to power; to Deathwing. At that exact same hour; Neltharion had died, as did most of his attachments toward the Dragon flights… With his eyes becoming weary to the sight of the ocean, the mind began to play the all too familiar sounds.

The screams of terror and death, the shocks of many who adored him, lastly a damnation which he vowed never to re-hear.

But its sound, like a clawing tearing apart flesh, was too much for him. As the memories, finally, re-awoken within his mind.

The smokes of war trifled up into his nostrils, with the flames of the Burning Legion beckoning him to use that which could achieve victory over all other factors of defeat.

The Dragon Soul; the object he had created, and along with significant amount of powers from the other Aspects, was the sole weapon that could win this war. At least in his perspective.

Although the battle of the Night Elves against the hordes of the Legion was 'successful' so far, Neltharion did not believe so. That it was a ploy of the Legion to bring them, and their allies into a trap in which Azeroth's final defense would be destroyed in one stroke.

So, the time had come to activate the Dragon Soul, his weapon against the Legion and all those who would threaten Azeroth with their darkness. It would grant him the power to control, ultimately, the other Dragon flights.

Some might wonder why he would want such power, wish for it. The answer was simple to him; The consolidation of this power and usage of it upon the Burning Legion would effectively cripple their defenses. This would force them into a position to either be annihilated by his hand, or cowardly retreat into their universe as the forces of Azeroth end the Burning Legion's case upon their world once and for all.

That is how it should, and would, happen or the Burning Legion would become victorious over the forces of Azeroth. "It must be done!", he thought…and yet at the back of his mind, at the heart of his soul, spoke of another plan. Of another outcome.

The small voice echoed; "Allow Alexstrasza and the Dragon-Flights to help you end the menace. Do not allow this avarice to claim you Neltharion! This step you take…will determine your future…" as it continued the sound grew weaker after each word it displaced within his mind.

This must be an Old God trick! How could he, Neltharion the Earth-Warder, be avarice? He was anything but this, this was the benevolence he has given to the world slandered upon!

Though while Neltharion halted his though process to watch the battle with a joy that would encompass his very soul, the Dragon-Flights appeared to aid in this battle.

As his eyes, darkened with the Old God's whispers, shifted to their direction it was evident that this would be the perfect time to activate the Dragon Soul.

Yet… a sole dragon came to him, one sparkled with the red warmth of life and love. Alexstrasza, the Life-Binder. The sight was an intoxication toward his mind and very being, as she approached him with glories of happiness.

"Neltharion, there you are!", she exclaimed as her grace landed upon the same platform as he, "The others and I were worried something had befallen you! …But why are you here? The battle is won…return Wymrest temple with me so we may leave this horrid war forever…".

Her tone, her overall emotion, was one of pain and grievance. The war, though mostly any war, was damaging her well being and the psyche of the Queen. Life wasted in such a manner would likely drive her into a deep depression of no return.

That was perhaps his second resolve to end the conflict, to appease her with the revival of life with its threat gone. But as he turned to the battle, his voice began to give his answer for absence.

"Ah, but I will make sure the Legion shall never attack Azeroth again! The Dragon Soul shall help me eradicate them from the face of this universe, as they tremble before my might!", a grin formed that had the thought of ending the Burning Legion once and for all.

But these thoughts were soon interrupted by Alexstrasza, with an almost pleading look about her, and her worriment; "Neltharion, don't say things like that…Killing them all, having just the emotions of vengeance and hate will only lead to more life spilt over a war that should have never happened!"

As they once more looked into each other's eyes, it was obvious to Neltharion he saw something different in the pupils he once adored. Now they…were filled with distrust? Filled with sadness? How can her eyes' even hold such emotions within them at this moment?

Nay, he continued his own thought process aloud by speaking; "No, Life-Binder! We must destroy this atrocity to the universe before it can harm anything else on this world or any other! And we will accomplish this, under my leadership, under my head!", although her response was not much appreciative of this.

"Malygos is already leading his Blue Dragon…", but she was interrupted by a violent outburst from Neltharion.

"Malygos? MALYGOS? That worm can barely even lead a squadron of his flies in a tight nit group then take out the Burning Legion! He is only jealous of my power, my intellect, my strength! So he dare challenges me by leading his flight into the heat of battle without my council? Without MY acknowledgement? He shall pay dearly for this insult…", as Neltharion cursed at the blue aspect's name it was now he could see that his Queen was…disturbed.

No, this wasn't the correct term for the facial expressions that had appeared when he spoke moments ago. Anger? Fear? Perhaps both, though in her eyes…there was the embodiment of fear within them. Then another object came to his attention; she was quivering as if her life was about to end mere moments from now , and so moving backwards every so slowly to escape death. The once bright red shade of her scales had been reduced to, in his vision, a pseudo-maroon color which brought him more discourage then happiness.

But why would she be in this state? She had nothing to fear from him, since she wouldn't betray him! …Or would she?

Sure, he had heard whispers telling him of the betrayals of Nozdormu, Malygos and Ysera. But Alexstrasza? No…she would not attempt to misuse their friendship for the sake of power, for the goal of usurping him!

Yet the whispers echoed within his mind, ripping his mentality of her to pieces bit by bit. Memory by memory.

"She will only usurp your power, mighty Neltharion…She is in league with the other Dragon Aspects to remove this power that they fear is greater then them!"

No, this could not be true! How could she even betray him? They were the best of friends, closer then any other Aspects were! He…almost could say that…

"Do not be fooled by her lies Earth-warder!", the whispers spoke out, "You are all alone…they only wish to see your death or…your power drained. Their friendships were nothing but foul play to obtain what they could from you…"

And slowly, the belief of these whispers came clear to him. Her fear was the fear of being outshined by Neltharion.

"Neltharion…please! Return home…return to the Temple so the war can not escalate any fu-", as Alexstrasza began to plead with Neltharion he interrupted in a rather furious tone.

"This war shall be the end of all wars within the realm of Azeroth! I promise you this, for I shall make all those who dare to oppose a unified Azeroth under the dragons will be destroyed…You are trying to make me flee with my tail between my legs! To make me look cowardly and foolish in this climatic end of all things.", Neltharion's glare at the Queen was one purely of hatred.

How could she do this to him? Try to make him leave in this final of battles? Though…she was crying now…why? Was it because he had uncovered the truth of her masque?

If so she was doing it rather convincingly, almost if it was real. "What if it is real, Earth Warder?", questioned a small voice within his subconscious. Was it his or the Old Gods?

It mattered not either way…he was assured they were not real and yet her next statement tossed him into confusion. "I would never betray you Neltharion! I have opened everything with you, I was also closest to you in your time of need as did you do the same…I could never make you cowardly, you who first proposed an all out attack on the Legion and wanted to destroy them indefinitely! Why do you think such things…I want your safety at the highest of all things, that is why I seek your leave…I do not want to see you become a martyr or the legend which died before my eyes…"

If she was lying, her acting was superior to any Neltharion had ever seen. The very sound booming from her was…different from her usual 'lively' mood. Now it was dead, depressing, and had little to no life within it.

The obvious consequence to this was that something, perhaps an emotion, was bashing his mind with her voice repeatedly. Was it guilt? Remorse? Or simply the emotion he felt many nights ago, with her by his side.

This only led to confusion, and hesitation on the Earth-Warder's affair. "What am I to do?", his first thought. A question which could never be answered, not now in the current case.

Time seemed to stop for him, as he stared at the Life-Binder's never-ending stream of tears. "Alex-", he tried to utter an apology or calm her into a more stable state. But she would not have it until he left.

She spoke, with a bit of choking up here and there, "No Neltharion I will not go or stop my current actions! Until you leave for the safety of your home, of our home, I will not heed your words…". With that it seemed the Earth-Warder must comply with the Life-Binder's demands.

Yet something proved him wrong. Another whisper, a darker kind, screeched into his mind; "**NELTHARION! **Do not heed these words of the witch, Alexstrasza! Her tears? Her sadness? The feeling of remorse and regret that dwell within you? All fabricated by her to ally with the mortals, whom shall destroy your plain. With your powers diminished, she shall be the dominant one, not ye! Do you not seek peace? Unity? Prosperity? To create such a world, some things must be broken. In this case…your relationship with that devil! That whore! If she truly _loved _you, truly wanted you, would she not forsake those pathetic consorts of hers to remain yours forever more? You are only a pawn for her amusement.", and so the whispers continued within this line of betrayal. Of heart-break.

At first it was depression that came into his eyes, as a dark void was pulling him through a darkness he did not care to stop. Then…it was anger. Hatred. Rage. The fires of 'darker emotions' boiled within him.

The last statement he can remember telling the life binder was thus; "I will no longer stand for your lies Life-Binder! For your tricks, your usage of me as a mere toy for your own amusement. You spoke of lack of compassion…the need for one who would fill the void that lies within your heart ever more.

Yet you have four consorts! Korialstrasz, and the rest of the fools who would do anything to get their sex appeal from you. So, why is it you dare come to me with this need of compassion? Are you trying to toy with my feelings? To use me as a political puppet to win your way In the council for a better, more dominant, position? I will have none of it! I shall not be damned to hell, for my destiny is to become A GOD!"

Then all other memories and emotions during that single moment became a blur…but he did remember one thing. The blood…oh how it was everywhere, how he sent the blue-dragon flight into extinction with his own claws, and forcing Malygos to be the last of his kind.

But Alexstrasza's expression…it was one of a haunting masque with the epitomes of fear added within her eyes of sadness. Her terror, something he would never forget in the coming years.

After awakening from the dark memories of the past, the ocean blue began to fade as the land of the 'Eastern Kingdoms' became more than visible to the self-proclaimed; "god of death".

With a crooked sneer, he began to blaze towards Stormwind; the human's capital.

Yet…at the back of his mind, the bottom of his soul, the rear of his heart it was present of doubt once more. _"Will she forgive me of my sins I have done against her..?" _

The answer remained evasive, for now.

It was an ironic sight…the Life-Binder was now making her way through the Dragon-Blight. This little place was the official 'grave-yard' for the Dragon-flights.

Her reason of being there? The burial of victims of the 'revolt' within the Wymrest Accord. Or rather the 'aggressors' as her own flight described it, seeing that the Black-Dragon flight was always the aggressor, always the villain.

It was more than common now for the Red Dragon Flight to take up arms against those who threatened Azeroth, yet this was now a mere opportunistic attempt to rid of a already small bastion Neltharion could use as an army.

Mortals would call this act a genocide attempt, to get rid of the last opposition to their hegemony of their power. In true; she saw that as the case now.

The Red Dragon flight never saw it as a battle between good and evil, only a struggle between who shall become a dominant player in the world. Oh how the irony hit her mindset, causing her to perform a 'self-exile' for about five months.

A time to think was now, think about how she could solve this problem or even…leave the dragon flight. But that was too rash of a thought, and so a small sigh left her. The heat of her breath formed a small cloud of steam.

A simple reaction to the cold weather, which the Dragon-Blight had constantly. Mortal measurements of the weather had it in; "Below 30 degrees Celsius in winter months, 0 degrees Celsius during spring and summer months."

Although, much to her luck, the Life-Binder found a small cave entrance in this endless grave-yards of fallen heroes. Gliding with graceful speed, she arrived at the darkened site.

To her surprise, with a bit horror, there were several humanoid skeletons within its boundaries. It seemed some adventurers during the Nexus War had lost their way…and met a slow death.

With a cast of her eyes, her sight came to view a small placement of rocks that could suffice for a 'rest' if she wanted to sleep with her back straight.

Yet before this, she cast a blaze of fire in the center of the cave. This would provide the necessary heat in order to survive a night or two within the cave. If she excluded the _other_ necessities of life…such as food or water.

Before she could even begin to think on such matters, the every so hardening cold began to force her into a 'fetal' position in order contain her warm.

Then…it was almost as if time itself ignored her existence, as she felt centuries move pass her when only it might have been a few minutes. Ten to twenty minutes passed by her, feeling as if it was twenty centuries that had gone by.

Slumber beckoned her, soothed her conflicts with nature, her Dragon-Flight and within her own being. Slowly she drifted off into her dreams, to escape the damnation of this world and enter a new world.

Within this dream, the ideal world of Alexstrasza was seen. All were at peace, all life flourished in Azeroth and the Dragon-Flights were united in brotherhood.

Its as if the Old Gods, the corruption of Chaos, never existed. There was no Horde, no Alliance, no form of opposition against this peace.

The magical Blue Dragon-Flight aided the magic wielders, turning them into great scholars and sorcerers. Under the leadership of Malygos, all information was given to mortals of their new found powers of elemental and natural magic.

The timeless Bronze Dragon-Flight, under the hierarchy of Nozdormu, maintained the stability of time. Everything went in the direction of peace and happiness, no wrong doing was created that would harm life.

Her sister, Ysera, and her Dragon-Flight led the druids in peaceful co-existence with nature. There they found true enlightenment, finding their answer to life.

And finally…Neltharion's Dragon-flight, along with her own, were side-by-side in defending Azeroth. Life and Earth, Binder and Warder.

This alternative reality to Alexstrasza was pure bliss…but it changed somewhat. A notice of this would be where the Earth-Warder seemed more attractive and attracted towards her.

At first? It was mere play, toying herself with the possibility that was. But in this current dream, something happened which had it's own subtext.

Neltharion, blazed with his black scales, was beside the Life-Binder as they watched the sun set on another glorious day within Azeroth. She cooed a bit, reaction from being very close to the best-friend who has been with her through and through.

Yet his next action made her blush and back away from him…it was a lick on the cheek, his red tongue with such silver words to explain faults touching her red scales. Having them become a red azure in comparison to the twilight sky.

"E-Earth-Warder!", Alexstrasza retorted immediately after this action. But the black-jet dragon gave a fine smirk, speaking with such elegancy to her ears it was almost as if an angel was speaking to her.

"Life-Binder, you should not act as if you need not want this…transaction. I was just simply following your moves, almost as if it was a graceful dance. Even if you had not intended me to follow your 'smooth moves'…just by the fascinating color that you now show, red, it is obvious you enjoyed what I bestowed upon thee. And I bestowed only one thing that you indeed want, my Queen.", his remarks still putting himself as an innocent being following only what he viewed were moves to be followed.

A mere pout came from the Life-Binder, being forced to a position where she can barely explain the blush and her 'smooth moves'…though she managed to state; "Neltharion…I-I am blushing simply because that type of touch that is generally shared by consorts or lovers! Which we are not…And what evidence do you have of my so-called 'moves'?"

His smirk merely grew in size and sanguine expressions; "Well, my Queen, I simply viewed certain actions that you showed to me willingly as moves to be followed. Always giving me excesses of warmth by choice, inviting me to extravagant parties, giving me the bliss of companionship with you, ec cetera. To follow these moves is simply stating…", he said while getting closer to her face. Edging inch by inch towards a final goal, a bliss he wanted to experience as much as she did. Hesitation took her in the momentum, causing her to stand still in time. All that was left was for her body to shift forward towards his, and the moment would be complete.

"Neltharion I-", but she was cut off…by her own actions in irony. Pushing herself forward to embrace the kiss, which at first was warm, blissful, and given her heart content.

Yet…it changed…after a few moments the warm feeling, its heat induced feeling was given a new emotion. A new touch, one of blazing fire that forced to her to break the kiss pre-maturely.

As she gazed up to see what was the error, her pupils grew in in terror. No longer was Neltharion there, but there was the dark-figured she'd know in an instant.

Deathwing…the Destroyer of Worlds. The hatred in his eyes only intensified as she broke the kiss, and backed up some feet in order to flee his grasp.

His voice boomed with the roar of confusion and anger. "Life-Binder, why did you break such a momentous action? Do you hate me? Do you despise my presence and only to _**toy**_with me? I will not have it, I will not lose you to Korialstrasz! **I WILL NOT LOSE YOU AGAIN!**"

Deathwing lunged at her, eyes wide with terror himself, as he prepared to deliver a final blow against her. And then? Darkness…endless darkness, to which she finally woke up screaming with fear becoming one with her soul.

Was it only a dream that has transpired? Or was it something…more? A message, a view into what was Neltharion. Or what she most appreciated him as of the past.

She did not know, nor did she want to know as of late. Her food supplies, which had been digesting within her for the past five months as a usage of warm, were running out. This meant the Life-Binder must have to take life, or feast on the dead and dying of those who still have meat upon them.

The Nightmare echoed throughout her thoughts "I will not lose you again…", why would she think such trivial thoughts? He was the Destroyer…causing madness among the Dragon-flights which caused her pain to no end. To believe he still cares for her, for anything, would be a whelp's ideal thinking…but reality was cruel. Life, itself, was dark.

Such things could not exist. She kept telling herself that, as the leviathan hunted for food.

Death…destruction…was it not to be the status quota for a warchieft of the Horde? One who had survived through the Third War with the Alliance, and actively fought against the Burning Legion during that age?

He, thought so…as did many others yet when it was left away for years to rust one's nerves may break when death is presented once again, without mercy.

It had been five weeks since the fleets ultimate burning, yes, and yet it still haunted him. The most obvious reason was; that many of whom were burnt alive in a blaze of hellish proportions were his comrades. Compatriots of arms, who he had served with for many a days during old times of war and peace.

Yet why must he keep on their deaths as if it is a burden of the ages? Nay, he must keep the world together at the Maelstrom if there is to be some order. If he did not, who would? None of the kinsmen, here anyway, knew shamanistic powers or qualities.

Though something did remain in his mind, other than the deaths, which he believed should be destroyed immediately. "_Deathwing…_", that name now was a object to be fear and hated.

Was it the name itself, or rather the being who carried its name? Perhaps both, the name can only be brought full circle with one who kills without mercy or remorse.

"_How very intelligent of you, green-skin"_, whispered a voice. Thrall reacted in a manner which would seem frightful of whatever spoke. Or whomever…the voice sounded such as a man, yet bore qualities that were not of this earth.

A sort of echo, almost, as Thrall realized no one other than he and some crewmen were here. It once again whispered in his ear…within his mind, aggravating him.

"_Such a tiny creature, blissfully ignorant of his talents…No wonder they view you as a weakling, green-skin."_, the voice echoed a laughter of genuine jest.

Was he going insane? Surely this must be his imagination, or an act to block away the deaths of his comrades. Yet this voice, somewhat warped, continued to speak towards him.

"_Do you seek to speak of yourself as merely hearing voices? A phase after the bloodshed of your fellow green skins? A foolish endeavor insect…You hear one of your betters as I have waited for ten thousand years preparing for a moment such as this that is arising! But if you are to address me then you may call me; Neroth. Now, tiny green-skin, I'd advise you to focus on the message that you have been GIFTED with! Your world will face change, one that will sweep the world up in a great tide that will ultimately either consume you or you shall "endure the change". But mortals rarely change, little green-skin…"_

"What madness do you speak of, coward?", Thrall replied in hast as the voice continued to insult him. Or…was he warning him? The voice of this being was undefined in the tone of threatening or giving him just a warning.

"_HA! Madness? You ignorant fool, what do you possibly know of madness? If you keep trying to digress the problem at hand, then I will leave you to your damned fate no matter how much the War master torments' me! Now…In your world there is a dark one, one you know by name alone, whom will ascend into a power which knows no bounds. Four Dark blessings will be gifted to him after such events of Blood, Corruption, Perfection, and Knowledge will be obtained. Once he was received the gifts, all shall fall beneath his might. And your world…will be consumed by the Warp."_

And then, the voice was gone as if it never existed. Thrall leaned back against the mast of his ship, the Avenger, as he attempted to focus on the maelstrom's rage against the world.

Yet this "warning" he was given, was vague. Not only vague but it gave a part clue to whomever this one to be gifted with 'four dark blessings' was; he was only Thrall only knew by name.

He knew only a few people by name…But he shifted his head, raised his hands into the sky and called upon the spirits of Azeroth to aid him.

A blazing green light appeared within his palms, as he chanted ancient spells to counter the maelstrom's unstable state as of now. "The Maelstrom comes first, the world comes first, vengeance comes as a secondary goal."

"_Nozdormu. You are running out of time, the Destroyer is loose and millions die once more as you stand by and do __**nothing**__."_, Eeztch beckoned to the bronze dragon once more as five weeks passed when Deathwing returned to the mortal plane.

At first, the Aspect only kept time in place. Deathwing was to live, for now, and would be defeated eventually by mortals for the last time.

Just as the Lich King or Malygos was, and yet he couldn't stop thinking about _why_ he was allowing Deathwing to live to kill another day. "I should kill him now…", he began to think this action at a rapid rate.

To kill the Destroyer, will end the chaos that now exists on Azeroth…to kill him will save the Dragon flights.

But if he does kill him than history will change, for good or ill, and this will damn him for the rest of his days. To kill a single being…to save millions or destroy them.

"_Your power can save them all; Alexstrasza, Kalecgos, Ysera, the denizens of Azeroth and even Malygos, Nozdormu. All you have to do is tear a threshold into a void which is in-between Azeroth and the Nether zone…and my servant shall aid you in the death of Deathwing."_

"Pardon me, Eeztch! But how am I to know Deathwing will not die if I do not intervene? Time is also available to me, if you do not know, so I know all courses that shall, may, and will happen!", protested Nozdormu.

"_Do you? Are you readily to pronounce that you know all that will be? All that is? All that shall? Such a simple minded creature, for if you know what shall be than this will be of no consequence"_, the voice echoed with a chuckle as the space around him was consumed by Darkness.

It slowly ate at him as well, but he did nothing as this was to be a vision into the future that will bear no consequence upon his psyche.

The world began to take form, as Azeroth grew from its simple beginnings. The grass, a lush dark green variant, consumed the plane in a glory only Alexstrasza and Ysera would admire. The mountains rose from their small pebble origins, rising to a great height of god-like status.

Neltharion…he would have been proud of such things. As the bronze giant turned his gaze toward the sky, magical wisps slowly took form to spread their gift throughout the world of Azeroth.

It seemed blissful, and although wars came and went life continued on in spite of it all. Yet…a small fire started near a tree. At first, the Bronze one thought it would simply go away.

But it did not, as it soon spread among the bark of the tree and than spread to the grass via air. The fire roared across the plains, consuming all plant life and than attacked the towns without mercy.

Men, women, children; all were crying for help as they attempted to put the fires out with water. Their gods, whom their worshipped all the time, did not answer their pleas. Eeztch bellowed within his mind: _"Look at these mortals, calling for false gods or misadventure'd heroes to rescue them from their plight. See how weak-minded they are, as they immediately beg for mercy to whomever saves them."_

And behold, a dragon, whose scales were tightly packed with Adamantium armor, 'rescued' them from their plight. As the rest of the world was consumed by this flame, when they cried out the same dragon came again and again.

Soon, as the fire died out, the dragon was revealed to be none other than the infamous Deathwing. The dragon was bristled in both scales and armor, and soon he was proclaimed a hero…a god.

At first all was good surprisingly, as the mortals did not converse in wars or trivial conflicts of the sort. Yet…they were arming themselves still, receiving training for combat, and gaining armor similar to the Betrayer's.

And then? The dark one assembled his mortal armies to attack the home of the dragons…Wymrest temple, along with those mortals who did not view him as a god.

Once more did the fire start again, consuming all who participated in this grand conflict of a world scale. Yet no one stopped the flames this time, as all were merely fighting for their own survival until there was nothing but ash and dust on the once fertile fields of Azeroth.

Blood was everywhere, and in the battlefield among all the corpses stood four thrones. The first was entirely made of skulls of all those who had fought, be their innocent, madman, or righteous soldier…all who fell were added to the collection.

The second throne was more conspicuous, as this throne was made from books yet it also bore magical essence. The books themselves being a base for the actual throne, as magical items, potions, and ultimately magic itself held and was the core of the throne itself.

And in the center of this throne stood an all seeing eye of knowledge, which knew past, present, and future yet did not allow this information to pass without its authority.

The third throne was a corrosive green…the bile and disease that had consumed the world in the fires of war soon took over with diseases that no one was capable of surviving. Those who did, somehow, survive were bloated, misshapen beings who were abominations.

Atop of that throne stood three circles connected with a similar number of arrows pointing out of the circles. One for each.

The fourth and final throne was filled with oddities, objects of excess and even mortals consumed in excess. Man, dragon, Orc, Tauren…none were spared in those who survived the bloodshed, the magic or the bile.

The symbol that stood atop this throne was one of a combination such as the previous one, the male and female symbol combined into a warped symbol that stood for them yet something more.

And so at the end of this world, brought about by Deathwing the destroyer, there will stand four thrones of Chaos which symbolize how it came to be.

War, Ambitious, Decay and Excess brought the world to its knees.

"_See little dragon? The future you see is one of your own arrogance blinding your sight. THIS, is the true future that awaits Azeroth Nozdormu. If you do not obey my word, than the world will die by the four sins that mortals are given and that he has. Will you let them, will you let the dragons, go into a hellfire of no return as you wait for death? Be very careful my friend…it might be your last decision."_

The vision then faded into realm of Nozdormu, a world of time in which he watches all time come and go. With a sigh he began to claw at this dimension, cutting in-between Azeroth and the Nether region.

And so fell the great Aspect Nozdormu to temptation, as a great bird glistened with azure feathers, one that very much resembled the color he saw the magic being composed of, came into his plane.

It carried a cane, with an ancient language none could comprehend along with a book that was filled with pages of time from its beginning to its end.

"_Meet my servant, Nozdormu, mortals call him a 'Lord of Change'…but I degree his name as; Ezekiel. He will help you little dragon."_

These were the last words Eeztch spoke to Nozdormu, as the Lord of change soon took charge of the realm and changed it into a realm of change itself.


End file.
